


Dye my eyes and call me pretty

by sophiahelix



Category: Ugly Betty
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1638218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiahelix/pseuds/sophiahelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel is confused by his new sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dye my eyes and call me pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lauren

 

 

Christina loved working late. It was probably a bit stupid, since Mode wasn't exactly given to handing out the overtime checks, but there wasn't another place on earth that felt as homelike as the Closet. (Except maybe that new club down in the village, but that was a secret between her and Bruce Johnson and his lime-green thong.) Growing up in the arse-end of nowhere, she'd only dreamt of being surrounded by dresses that cost more than she'd made in six months earning tips by unbuttoning her blouses and leaning as far over the bar as she could without landing in some laddie's lap. The lights were flattering, the vapid fannies had left to snort coke and nibble on parsley, and no one was bothered if she put in a few hours on her own things rather than turning a pile of leopard-print chiffon into something that wouldn't get the model arrested on the street.

She wasn't alone tonight, though, judging by the racks that had been moved since she went to the loo, and she gritted her teeth a bit as the door swung shut behind her. Mignonette had been hovering jealously over her shoulder since the rising stars show, and Christina wouldn't have been surprised to see her rooting through the things she'd left out, nicking ideas and jingling those naff lacquered bracelets of hers that were so 2005.

Instead of a gangly heifer with a neck strangled by ugly scarves and no bum, Christina found the shortest model she'd ever seen, who turned out to be Daniel Meade in heels and a cocktail dress.

He'd made a good choice, she thought, just as she dropped her purse on the floor with a thump, the big silver buckle clanging against the metal leg of a chair. Mauve was a lovely color on a brunette. 

Daniel jumped at the sound of her purse and whirled away from the triple mirror, stumbling on his heels and crashing into a nearby rack. The urge to laugh was almost overwhelming, and only the memory that he was her boss and could have her sacked in a fingersnap kept Christina from collapsing into hysterical giggles.

"I - it's for a joke - a funny article - a - a bachelor party prank," Daniel stuttered, struggling to stand upright. The clothes hanging on the rack swayed wildly and a heavy sequined blazer slid to the floor, followed by a heap of silk negligees and an unidentifiable elasticized thing Christina had figured must be a dress of some sort. Really, the big houses went madder every season trying to compete with the avant garde up-and-comers.

Christina allowed herself one smile, and went to one of the drawers built into the long wall behind her. "I've got something better for you than those grubby socks," she said.

Daniel only gaped at her, back on his feet again, as she approached him with a foam pad in either hand. She patted his behind, shooing him back up onto the mirror platform. 

"Have to keep plenty of these on hand nowadays," Christina said, reaching into the top of the dress to pull out his socks. Underneath, his flat chest was waxed smooth and nicely sculpted, just enough to give that pigeon chest of his a little definition. No Bruce Johnson, but a step ahead of the hairy plonkers she'd used to date back home. "Giselle's got the world believing you can be a 32C and still look like a scarecrow everywhere else."

"She's only a 32B, actually," Daniel said faintly, as Christina tugged at the dress. "She stuffs."

"That a fact?" she asked. "There. Turn."

Daniel obeyed. 

"Hmm," Christina said, squinting at his reflection. "Bit lopsided." She cupped her hands around the pads and pushed one of them up. Daniel met her eyes in the mirror, looking even more shocked than he had before (quite a feat), and she smiled again.

"Used tae work at a drag club on the side," she said. "Good to keep my hand in with the fake tits, if you know what I mean." She squeezed one side for emphasis, and Daniel made a startled noise.

"Now," she said, stepping down from the dais. "Jewelry. How fancy is the occasion?"

"Uh, no occasion," Daniel said, sounding distracted. As she turned away she could see him moving from side to side, checking out the new additions. 

"I see," Christina said, unlocking a cabinet.

"It's not like that," Daniel said quickly. "I'm not, like, going to bars or anything. Dad would love that," he added quietly. "And I'm not gay."

Christina thought for a moment before deciding not to educate Daniel Meade, editor in chief of Mode magazine, co-heir to the Meade publishing empire, and world-famous manwhore, about the finer points of cross-dressing and sexual orientation. "You're in the minority of men around here," she said instead. "Alas for the lasses."

"I just..." Daniel said, and trailed off. "Well. Alex."

Christina didn't say anything, sorting through the necklaces in search of a yellow sapphire pendant that she wasn't supposed to know about and had certainly never borrowed for a date with a very fit financial planner who went skydiving and base-jumping in his spare time and, now that she thought of it, would have looked smashing in a knee-length mauve frock. Lovely broad shoulders on that one. 

"I couldn't really imagine it, you know? What made him even think of it in the first place. Growing up, there was never -- _never_..." Daniel huffed out a breath. "He loved women. He _loved_ them."

"Women love women too," Christina said mildly. She found the necklace all tangled up and started picking at the chain with her fingernails.

"He was just such a _guy_. My big brother. And now he's wearing high heels and lipstick and running a fashion magazine and none of it makes any sense."

"Men run fashion magazines too," Christina said, giving him a sidelong glance. 

"Yeah," Daniel said. "I just wondered... if it was better. Being a woman."

"Well," Christina said, coming over with the necklace and an emerald-studded cuff. "Wearing women's clothes isn't always about being a man or a woman. Sometimes you just want to feel a bit pretty." She stood behind Daniel and fastened the necklace around his neck, then reached forward to slide the pendant until it was centered on his chest. In heels he was finally a bit taller than her and she let her hand rest there a moment on his warm, smooth skin. He smelled good. He always smelled good. Rich men did, or at least world-famous manwhores did.

"I guess," Daniel said, looking down at himself. He smoothed out the folds of the dress, his manicured fingers plucking at the fabric. 

Christina picked up his hand and Daniel let her clip the bracelet around his wrist, still looking down. She moved back and clicked her tongue, studying him. 

"You _are_ pretty, Daniel," she said. "Not like your sister, I'm afraid, but who is? Maybe if they could afford to buy a set of tits and cheekbones like that."

Daniel made a face. "God, stop. I do not want to think about my - Alex's - _breasts_. Yech." 

He looked in the mirror and blinked, like he was coming out of a daze. "Look, I don't even know what I'm doing here. I'm so sorry, Christina, I shouldn't have done this - stuff. I'm not gay." He reached for the bracelet, fumbling with the clasp.

"No one said you were," Christina said, putting her hand on his.

Daniel looked at her. "I like women," he said, nodding his head for emphasis.

"You can like looking like one too. I like it too." 

Daniel seemed to see _her_ for the first time, not just the wardrobe assistant, and Christina smiled and moved to stand behind him again. 

"It's not just about tits," she said, sliding her hands to readjust the pads once more. "Don't get me wrong, they're dead useful. Ask me how I got my green card renewed." She slid her hands over the top of the dress, enjoying the sight even if there wasn't much touch for him to enjoy.

"How did - " 

"Another time, pretty," Christina whispered in his ear. She slid her hands lower, along his sides.

"Now hips, those are nice too. With the right kit, we could give you some real shape." She scratched with her fingertips and Daniel squirmed a little. "No good for couture, of course - curves are just for the tarts in the Victoria's Secret show."

"I like that show," Daniel said faintly.

"I know you do," Christina said with a grin. "Maintenance was finding hot pink knickers all over the office the next week."

Daniel blushed, then grinned a little himself. Christina started to feel warm all over, seeing him get in the game. 

"So, hips and tits," she said, sliding her hands back up his body. "There's long silky hair, of course, but I'm not one for wigs. Lips, though." She ran her thumb over his lower lip. "Smooth skin." She touched his cheeks, smooth as though he'd just shaven, which he probably had. "Nice smell." She kissed the back of his neck, inhaling the cologne that was really nothing but masculine. She liked that. 

"That's it?" Daniel asked, clearing his throat. Christina kissed his bare shoulder, right next to the strap of the dress, and saw something else she liked in the mirror. 

"No," she said, running her hand up over his chest again and down his flat stomach, firm and muscled beneath her touch, reaching for something lower. "Traditionally, you might say, being a woman is about being - taken." She tiptoed her fingers to where there was a swelling bulge beneath the dress, and Daniel's whole body went taut in her arms as she gently circled it with her nails. 

"Do you like being taken, Danny boy?" Christina whispered, kissing his neck. The answer was yes, she'd always known that about him, but she still waited for the little moan of assent he made in the back of the throat before stroking him for real. 

He was lovely to watch in the mirror, the full bodice of his dress rising with his breath in quick hitches, his pretty eyes closing as he bit his pretty lip. She was gentle with him, bringing him fully erect, admiring the size of him as the skirt was pushed upwards. Bruce Johnson would be taking a break from the fantasy world of Christina McKinney for some time to come. 

"You know," she said after a bit, still pitching her voice low and breathy. "Women like to do the taking too." 

Daniel opened his eyes as Christina stepped away, turning him with her hands on his hips. She pushed him a step backwards, and he stumbled a bit on his heels as his back hit the mirror. The grin from earlier was gone entirely, and he looked like a nervous teenage boy as she knelt down in front of him. 

"What - oh God," Daniel said when she put her hands under his dress, pushing it up. His thighs were hairy but she didn't mind - contrast was part of the fun. 

"Why Daniel Meade, where _are_ your shorts?" she asked, holding the skirt at his hips. "You're damaging Mode property."

"They didn't look right," he breathed, laying his hands flat against the glass of the mirror. She could see him blushing again. 

"We'll have to find you a pair of pink knickers for next time," Christina said, and his little whimper turned into a groan as she took him into her mouth. 

Daniel was fun to play with, a lovely big boy, and she lost track of time with her hand on his balls and her head under his skirt. He kept moving his hips and his moans grew louder, making her smile around him. Always nice to have good work be appreciated. 

Christina shook her head free of the silk skirt and saw, out of the corner of her eye, Daniel watching them in another mirror. She put on a bit more of a show for him then, moving her head back to lick the tip so he could see himself better, wriggling her arse, but mostly she knew it was the dress and the heels that was doing it for them both. After a while she could see he wasn't watching anymore, his eyes squeezed shut tight, and she did the job good and proper, pumping him with her hand and swallowing him deep.

She didn't expect him to keep standing after that and he didn't, just slid down against the mirror and kicked his heels off. 

"That," he managed after a few minutes of heavy breathing, and stopped. "That was different."

"Feel more like a woman?" Christina asked, leaning against another mirror. Daniel opened his eyes. 

"I honestly have no idea," he said. 

"Don't worry," Christina said. She got up, bent down, and kissed the top of his head. "We'll work on it more later. You owe me a turn, pretty boy." 

Daniel watched her go, his head still limp as he slumped against the mirror, a sweet, silly smile on his face.

"And Daniel?" she said. "Keep the dress." 

 


End file.
